


there's no room in this hell

by mindyfication



Series: I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Background Alicia Banes/Sam Winchester, Doll Alicia, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Post-Episode: s12e20 Twigs and Twine and Tasha Banes, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 11:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10898508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindyfication/pseuds/mindyfication
Summary: Before, Max could have imagined him and Alicia double dating the Winchester brothers. Before her death and rebirth, before he tried to keep them off any security footage and out of any hunter's sight.Before.





	there's no room in this hell

**Author's Note:**

> and we're all the way to track seven (!): Early Sunsets Over Monroeville ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GW_umELS5w8))

Before, Max could have imagined him and Alicia double dating the Winchester brothers. It had been something they always joked about, finding a set of twins for matching lovers. Codependent brothers was close enough and Alicia had a thing for other hunters. Max didn’t usually, a kink in their matching set plans. But Alicia was sure the right hunter would come along one day and Dean fucking Winchester did. 

Dean, with his gorgeous car stocked full of weapons and Max’s imagination was in overdrive. He couldn’t even decide what he wanted the most: to be bent over the hood while Dean slammed into him, or to have Dean ride him in the backseat, or to just lean over and take him in his mouth while they were still on the highway. He doesn’t usually do fantasies before a first date, Max blames the car. 

But that was before.

They’re aimlessly driving through Colorado when Alicia gets the call. Max turns the radio down, and Alicia flashes him a grateful smile. 

“Hey Sam!” she chirps, and Max’s stomach drops. He’d been hoping if they called it’d be on his phone- it wasn’t like he was going to take away Alicia’s. Her closest friends were scattered over the world and she always used her phone far, far more than Max did. His was really just emergency numbers and hookups. 

“Mhmm, sure that sounds good. We’re only a few hours out.” Alicia doesn’t pull over as she talks, and Max can’t bring himself to remind her that she usually does. _For safety_ , she’d half-joke, both of them covered in graveyard dirt or a monster’s blood. 

“Yeah, that’s easy enough to remember. I can-” she laughs, “fine text it to me.” There’s a pause, he can’t hear whatever Sam’s saying, and Max should be more worried- but Alicia looks so happy. It’s a reoccurring theme these days. “Sure, I look forward to it,” she says, and hands the phone over. 

“Tall Winchester,” she says and Max takes the phone with a shallow smile, hopes her hearing hasn’t gotten any better. 

“Did you tell her?” Sam asks quickly. 

“Well hello to you too,” Max drawls for his sister’s benefit. “Not yet.” 

“We’ll find a way to fix this- but you need to tell her. Trust me.”

“I know,” he sighs, hangs up. He's pretty sure they won't kill her, and if that's their aim, he has a snowball's chance of evading them forever.

Alicia shoots him a worried look, “What was that? Did he tell you about the case we’re helping them with?” 

“Yeah,” Max says, “Definitely no time to hit the Grand Canyon first.” 

“We’ll go after,” she says. “It’ll be our post-case treat, and maybe the boys will come too.” 

And Max can’t bring himself to break the fantasy, has his sister with him and happy. “Sounds good.” 

.

Sam and Dean are chilling in the parking lot, a few beers between them and the sun going down nearby. 

“Do I look okay?” Alicia asks, finger combing her hair a bit. 

“As always,” Max says and Alicia grins wide. 

“Grab our bags?” she asks and is out of the jeep with a mischievous giggle. He does, not minding nearly as much as he once did when she pulled this kinda thing. Max grabs the bags and heads over, sees Alicia having hugged Dean turn to Sam. He really should have told her. But every time he went to Alicia was so happy or one of their songs came on the radio or-

“-told myself I would,” Alicia’s saying, is suddenly kissing Sam. 

“Shit,” he mutters, and Dean takes one of the bags. At least neither has a lighter out, look more civilian than hunter.

“C’mon we’re gonna need some hard liquor for this conversation.” 

Sam is gently pushing Alicia away, and Max follows Dean in. They end up in a gigantic library, a bottle of cognac and four glasses on a wooden table. 

“She was gonna find out,” Dean says, pouring. 

“I know, I just- I want her to be happy.” 

“Yeah, I get it.” 

Max takes one of the cups, rolls it between his palms. “I thought you’d be mad. You shot the witch so I wouldn’t-” Max swallows deeply, the soft burn trailing down his throat. “I did it.” 

Dean’s lips twitch into an almost smile. “It’d be pretty damn hypocritical of me.”

Max relaxes at that, slumps back in the chair and stretches his legs out beneath the table. “What’s it like?” he dares to ask, not sure if he wants the answer. 

“Enjoy your years kid,” Dean says, eyes distant. “Hell rips and twists your soul until all you feel is pain and despair. They’ll leave you with enough memories so you don’t go mad, enough so they can still torture you properly.” 

“Awesome,” Max mutters into his glass, downing the rest. 

Dean raises an eyebrow as he leans forward to refill it. “What’d you expect?” 

“Nah, that’s it,” he says, wiping a hand down his face. There’s a question stuck in the front of his mind, _was it worth it_ , but he doesn’t want to know. Doesn’t want to know if the older Winchester would risk the apocalypse again for his baby brother, doesn’t want to think about that he’d do the same for Alicia. “I should make a bucket list,” he says instead, a flimsy joke.

Dean’s lips quirk, but then Alicia and Sam join them, Alicia sitting by his side. 

Alicia rolls her shoulders back, the move she did before every model u.n. debate, before calling their Mom when she knew Tasha wasn’t going to accept any backup, before the few times they argued for real. 

Dean recognizes it too, or the tension in the air. “We’re gonna go make some grub, I’m sure you two-”

“No,” Alicia interrupts simply. “Everyone needs to know what’s going on, and Sam wouldn’t tell me his guess.” 

“Lish,” Max says softly, taking her hand. “Are you sure?” 

She nods, and Max swallows. 

“I took the witch’s magic and brought you back. The demon didn’t appear to me, but I know it wasn’t just my magic.” 

Alicia takes her hand back, pushes one of her fingers until it cracks out of place, unnaturally bent. And then she realigns it with a sharp snap. 

“How much of this is me?” 

“Lish, you might-”

“Max! How much?” 

“Your heart, your soul, your memories.”

“Were you going to tell me?” Alicia asks. 

“Eventually,” he admits. “I didn’t want you to worry.” 

She exhales slow, voice flat, “Give me the spell book and ring.” 

“We can-” Max starts, handing the items over. 

Alicia stands, “I need to think without you. Okay?” 

“Yeah, ‘course. I’m here for you.” 

Her lips twist at that, but she turns to Sam. “Is there somewhere nice to read?” 

“Yeah,” Sam says hastily, standing up and whacking his knee. “I’ll show you the green house. It’s good this time of year.” 

They leave, and Max takes another deep sip, finishes the glass. 

“Easy there tiger,” Dean says, but fills up both of their glasses. 

“Any other day I’d be amazed to be here. Like this bunker is incredible.” 

“Yeah,” Dean breathes, looking around. “Tomorrow, I’ll give you the full tour.” 

Heat sparks in his belly, remembers those promising words from before. “Hold you to that.” 

“Mhmm. And what for today?” 

The alcohol’s warmth and wavering reality makes him bold. “Forget. Stop thinking. Live life to the fullest crap. Wanna help?” 

Dean nods, stands up, “I am a professional.” 

.

The sex is definitely bucket list worthy, and Max wonders if they might stick around for a little while, do a proper team up. Dean even makes him some pancakes, albeit slightly burnt, but there’s enough maple syrup to cover that. He keeps cooking them long past when they’re both full for the younger siblings. They come down then, sleep rumpled with bright eyes, and Max is sure that isn’t Alicia’s flannel she’s wearing- it’s far too long.

Her playfully raised eyebrow dares him to comment, and he’s just happy she isn’t pissed at him. Alicia doesn’t give the spell book or ring back, says she wants to work on it alone. There’s alarm bells going off like mad in his head, but he can’t blame her for wanting to know more about what he forced her to become. 

Life moves on. Sam tells them they’re welcome to stay however long they want, and the four of them sometimes go out on smaller hunts. They’re practically a joke with so much backup, but it’s nice to be nearly certain no one will get hurt. Most afternoons are spent searching for Lucifer’s fetus, and isn’t that a sentence he never thought he’d think. He spends them in their library, pouring over old books with Sam. They work well together, hammer out ideas and theory between pages. Alicia’s always preferred to read alone, gets distracted otherwise. And he isn’t sure where Dean spends his afternoons- knows sometimes he researches elsewhere, sometimes works on his gorgeous car, sometimes does random chores around the house. Max can admit he’s a little grateful for that, doesn’t want to test his resolve for not jumping Dean instead of reading dry Latin. 

Nights are spent in Dean’s bed, a thick memory foam that makes even the quickest fuck feel like an indulgence. They go good together, don’t need to talk about hell or saved siblings or inevitability or feelings. They only have sex outside of the bedroom once, don’t want to get caught by the bunker’s other two inhabitants. But Dean was showing off his Baby again, after going through the entire garage with him, and Max was too turned on to care. They know how to wind each other up easily now- Dean by using his hands and talking about his loves, and Max by doing light magic, summoning toys or pushing Dean up against a wall. 

Max and Alicia become the default not-takeout cooks after the boys try their baked mac ‘n cheese. It reminds him of younger days, when he and Alicia used to cook for their mom and whoever’s house they were staying at. If they’re making breakfast, it’s with the news muted, making up their own outrageous stories and smiling all the while. Max usually wins the more ridiculous fake news without laughing award, Alicia breaks out into giggles halfway through her own titles, often can’t make it to the punch line. 

If it’s lunch, they put on the soaps. Alicia has always been good at keeping their tangled story lines straight, delights in explaining why crew cut is punching the red head or the random extra is actually so-and-so’s long lost sibling. Making dinner means playing the radio, singing off-key and dancing around the kitchen.

It’s good. It’s too good, too peaceful to last, but Max lets himself believe. He already sold his soul, maybe it really could be this easy. (If easy was tracking down a nephilim, another lost mother, and some other hunters that have gone missing. If easy was waiting for the other shoe to drop, trying to squeeze out every ounce of happiness before the end.)

.

It lasts for exactly a month, a month and Alicia doesn’t come down to make waffles with him. It was Sunday, it was supposed to be chocolate chip waffles and mimosas. There’s an envelope with his name on in instead, in Alicia’s gel pen purple cursive and his stomach twists tight. He rips it open, eyes scanning the note. 

_My favorite brother,_

_There are a million things I’ve thought of writing here. But you know them all, and they all simmer down to the same essence: I love you._

_Most of me is somewhere else. I think I’ve known it from the start, but I didn’t want to believe. I wasn’t sure until I read the entire spell book anyways. I don’t have my soul. I have a copy of it, an imitation bound to my heart. And if you weren’t destined for hell, I wouldn’t care._

_I know you’ll understand my choice, I can’t let you be damned for me. I knew you’d try to stop me, so I couldn’t say goodbye in person. By now I’ve purified and destroyed the ring, along with your deal, in the green house. I know I wasn’t a witch, but all the same, plant my ashes where something may grow. Maybe by the Grand Canyon? I’d like us to be there at least once._

_Love always,_  
_Alicia_

The letter is blurry, and Max pockets it before he can smudge anything, rushing to the green house. He gets there unnaturally fast, fervently praying that somehow she’s okay, crumples when he spots her ashes. Sam is already there, and with a rush of anger he wants to pummel him- that he _knew_ , that he _let her_. And Max can’t help but think she failed, life without her would always be hell.

.

He packs up her jeep, an urn in the passenger seat and directions to the canyon on his phone. Sam said he was sorry, that he couldn’t deny her last wish, and Max couldn’t listen to any more, couldn’t keep re-imagining her last moments. (Alicia holding his hand, Sam doing the spell for Alicia, her body instantly disintegrating-)

Dean didn’t waste any time with apologies or what-ifs or could-have-been’s. They knew each other.

He just says, “Come back one day and I’ll let you drive Baby.”

And Max smiles soft, even if he can’t imagine living that long, his body ready to fall. “Might have to do that.”


End file.
